


Idle Singer on an Empty Day

by orphan_account



Category: NSYNC
Genre: AU, M/M, hooker!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-10
Updated: 2010-03-10
Packaged: 2017-10-07 20:46:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remix of Joie's <a href="http://www.illuminations.nu/joie/rentboy.html">Rentboy</a>.  JC goes on a date with the famous Justin Timberlake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Idle Singer on an Empty Day

JC lost himself when he danced. He wished he could sing too but this wasn't that type of club, and it would have been ridiculous for him to be singing while just wearing his white underwear. He hated this dance mix of Celine Dion's anyway. He crouched down on the bar he was dancing on, and the old guy with the twitchy eye poured his warm beer all over JC. The beer made everything wet, visible and obvious and the old guy's twitchy eye almost popped out. Everyone near the bar looked at his crotch like they saw God, and the dollar bills started coming out, even fives and tens. The way the club was lit, everything looked slightly red, the money, the faces, even his underwear.

He could live with wet money. He made sure to stop at every guy drinking at the bar. He wasn't particularly good at math, but he figured he had anywhere from fifty to seventy dollars stuffed somewhere around his crotch and ass.

"Wait, sonny boy, just let me put on my eye drops." JC decided to call him Twitchy. From what Nick had told him, the guy had weak eyelids and had to keep his one eye lubricated all the time or else his eye actually popped out. Nick was full of shit, but the rest of the dancers backed him up, and said that one time, Big Poppa waved his dick in Twitchy's face. The old guy's eye, according to all of them, actually popped out of his eye socket and dangled by the nerve. They said they were freaked out at first, then started to laugh because the old guy was jerking his head up repeatedly, with his hand holding the eye socket open like he was trying to play ball in a cup, the eyeball dangling and swirling like a lasso.

Twitchy put on his eye drops and smiled at JC afterwards. He got a fifty out of his wallet and waved it in JC's face. "Thanks for lettin' me do that, sonny boy."

JC got down from the bar. He hated doing this type of shit, but it was fifty dollars. He grabbed Twitchy's hand and stuffed it down his crotch. The old guy grabbed his dick and started to jerk him off. JC drew back and smiled.

"Thanks!" JC said. Twitchy smiled back, a little surprised. JC could tell. When he crinkled his nose and made his eyes squint when he smiled, everyone always thought it was real.

JC bowed slightly to the crowd and went to the locker room. One fucking o'clock in the morning, he thought. He counted all the bills and was surprised. He got more than a hundred bucks.

"How is it out there?" Nick asked. He was wearing a dress shirt, underwear and socks.

"Not the Tom Cruise thing again," JC said.

"Don't knock it 'til you try it, Frenchie," Nick said. He pulled down his underwear for a second to tighten his cockring. His dick looked like a soft eggplant.

"Don't have to try anything. I know what works." JC opened his locker and stuffed the money in his wallet. "I'm taking a shower. I know how much money's in there Nick. I see one buck missing and I'll kick your ass," he said while walking away.

"Fuck you." Nick walks out. When JC turned to look back, he saw Nick do a little jog so he could slide for his grand appearance.

"Idiot." JC walked to the shower and turned the water on. He washed the stink of beer and smoke away from him, scrubbing until he was pink under the glaring fluorescent light in the bathroom.

Big Poppa yelled from somewhere. "Hey Jayce! Hurry up, man, there's some big shot waiting for you outside, behind the club."

"Thanks." He briskly toweled himself off and got dressed. Tight jeans, loose, long sleeved white shirt, bead necklace and flip flops, sunglasses to hold his hair back a bit. He really needed to get a haircut, but a lot of guys liked his hair curly and long.

He checked his wallet and walked out of the club, waving goodbye to Big Poppa who was still wearing his chaps. An expensive engine hummed; he heard it when he was still inside the club. He'd been in LA long enough to recognize a rich john by the sound of his engine.

The night air was cool when he stepped outside, cooler still because of his still damp hair. He saw the john turn around to look at him from his sleek convertible and made sure to tuck his hair behind his ear with a quirk of a grin on his face. The john smiled back, wide and bright and real. JC was taken aback because the guy was fucking handsome, with stubble for hair and peach fuzz on his face that could almost be a goatee.

The john leaned back against his seat and stretched his arm across the passenger seat. "You were good in there," he said.

"Thanks," JC said. "I didn't see you inside though."

"Laying low. Get in."

JC opened the car door and sat. He took a quick look around the car. Stick shift (control freak, probably a top), Coldplay and N.E.R.D. CDs (thinks he's romantic and street), leather interior (rich and spoiled) and a picture of an older looking blonde woman hanging from the rear view mirror.

"I love Coldplay," JC said. He grabbed the CD case and smiled at the john, who smiled back. "Chris Martin is a really good songwriter and singer."

"Yeah he is. Nice guy too."

JC made sure to put just enough emphasis in his voice. Sometimes people fell for the naïve rent boys. "No way! Oh man, how'd you meet him?"

"Award show." The john put in the Coldplay CD.

"How'd you get there?" JC asked. He's heard this a million times before. He once had a john who said he met Carmen Miranda. JC really didn't know who she was, but he pretended to be impressed and danced with fruit on his head.

The john raised an eyebrow and said, "Was nominated." JC noticed that this guy had really blue eyes. In an old life when JC was fresh off the bus depot, he would have said the eyes were like pools of ocean water.

Even JC wasn't a good enough actor to pretend to believe this guy's bullshit though. "Yeah right," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Right. Name's Justin by the way."

"JC." He extended his hand to Justin, who took it with a somewhat confused smile on his face.

"I want you for the night. You got any plans?"

"Not anymore," JC said.

Justin looked back at the club. "Does that door get used much?"

"Let me knock on the door first." JC got out of the car for a moment and knocked on the door three times slow, three times fast. Someone from the other side, probably Big Poppa, knocked three times fast, three times slow.

JC got back in the car and smiled at Justin. "No one's gonna bother us, at least, not anyone from the club."

Justin unzipped his pants with no fuss and took out his cock. JC was about to suck on it when Justin stopped him.

"What, no pricing?" Justin asked, a smirk on his face.

"I'm not stupid enough to think you can't afford it," JC said.

"Good answer."

"But it's five grand for the night," JC lied.

"Impress me and I might believe you," Justin said.

JC's specialty was deep throating on the first try. There was rarely a dick he couldn't swallow down whole, and this guy was just above average, so he easily down JC's throat.

"Fuck, how'd you do that? Never mind, don't answer." Justin grabbed JC's head and started pushing it down. JC hated it when johns did that. He wasn't an amateur at this thing and he did not need direction, but he kept sucking. He swirled his tongue a bit, hummed a little. Justin jumped off his seat slightly and released JC's head. Thank fucking God, JC thought.

"Christ, you're good." JC rolled his eyes and felt like pulling out one of the guy's pubes, just because. He nudged Justin's pants down to massage and stroke his balls, which must have been Justin's weak spot.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," Justin said. JC moved quickly to avoid Justin coming in his mouth. He wasn't quick enough though and Justin's come hit him in the face, one streak going inside his nostril. JC sneezed. He shook his head and was about to wipe his face with his hand when he heard Justin tell him to stop. Fuck, JC thought. He leaned back with spunk on his face and watched Justin come down from his orgasm high.

Justin had a stupid smile on his face. He opened his eyes and leered at JC.

"Stay still," Justin said. He licked his own come off JC's face with slow, relishing strokes. JC kept his eyes open and met Justin's eyes guilelessly.

"Two grand. The night's young though so you can get your way up to five yet."

"Maybe six," JC said.

"Six grand? Kiss my ass."

"Where and when?"

Justin looked at him and smiled a dangerous smile.

"Where's the closest Wendy's?" he asked. "We're eating first."

* * *

 

The drive-through clerk was a teenaged girl who looked awestruck when she saw Justin. "My God, you look like Justin Timberlake!" she said.

"You want my fake autograph?" Justin said charmingly. The girl giggled and got them their order.

"Enjoy your meal!"

"Tell that to my boyfriend. Don't you think he's too thin?" Justin asked, gesturing at JC.

The girl giggled again. "Yeah, but he's cute. You got good taste."

"Both of you can fuck off," JC said, crossing his arms.

"I told him I didn't want a pink wedding," Justin said. The girl, whose name was Jubelda from what JC could make out, actually went 'tee-hee.' "He says we should embrace our gayness. I say pink is too much. What do you think?"

"I don't like pink," Jubelda said. "No offense."

"None taken. Honey?" Justin asked, looking at JC.

JC had had enough. He had a great trick for stupid situations like these. He ducked his head and smoothed his hair down. "Come on, Justin," he said softly, giving Justin and Jubelda a sidelong look from under his lashes.

"Oh, give him a break," Jubelda said. "You guys go on and have fun." She even winked.

Justin gave her a fifty, blew her a kiss and said "keep the change" while peeling out of the drive-through.

"My hotel is just a few blocks away," Justin said, that dangerous grin on his face.

* * *

 

The burgers went quickly and so did the fries. The milkshake was a luxury he'd have to do push ups and sit ups for later, but JC let himself indulge. He already had two thousand dollars in the bag. Justin took out a money clip and actually counted out two thousand dollars in hundred dollar bills.

"How can you carry that much money on you?" JC asked, sitting on the huge bed. Must be a star perk to have black satin sheets. They looked slippery and uncomfortable.

"Eh," Justin said. "I was prepared." He tilted his head to look at JC. "You want a thousand more?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"An honest one."

"Yeah, I want a thousand dollars more."

"I get to ask a few questions and you answer honestly. I feel like you're lying, you don't get it. Simple enough." Justin crawled to the middle of the bed and beckoned JC to come closer.

JC hated johns who wanted to get to know him. "Sure," he said.

"You have no idea who I am, do you?"

"I know who you are, I just don't care how famous you are," JC answered, his tone consciously free of any sarcasm or hostility. He met Justin's eyes squarely. Justin's expression softened.

"What's your favourite song of mine?"

"Gone. I could feel you in that song. You were so into it, and I - I just felt it." JC felt himself flush slightly.

"Is mine the biggest dick you've sucked?"

"No."

Justin laughed. "Christ, you really are being honest, aren't you?" JC shrugged. He couldn't help smiling back at Justin.

"Are you really going to lick my ass?"

"Whatever you want."

Justin looked at him appraisingly for a second. "How did you get started in this business? Seriously."

"I wanted to sing, once upon a time." JC shrugged again. "They asked for my demo tape, they asked for a blowjob too. It just became easier to keep sucking dick. No one turned me down for blowjobs, not when I offered so nicely," JC said grimly.

A pained and pitying expression flickered across Justin's face. They stared at each other for a few moments, JC refusing to buckle under pity.

"I'm not going to ask you to sing," Justin said.

He never expected to be asked. JC hasn't expected anything in a while, but he was surprised to feel disappointed anyway.

"What makes you think I would sing for you anyway?" JC asked.

* * *

 

The fucking was a welcome relief from the personal shit that most johns with money tried to indulge in. Down to business finally.

Justin, JC thought, didn't fuck men very often, if at all. His technique was sloppy. He kept slipping out and saying that he had never fucked anything so tight.

"What position do you want to try?" JC asked.

"I want to see you," Justin panted.

JC raised his legs up to Justin's shoulders. His dick was limp between them, but Justin didn't notice. He fucked JC raggedly but got too enthusiastic sometimes, and then he would pull out too far and have to line himself up to get back in again.

"Doggie style," Justin said. JC shoved Justin gently off him and went on his hands and knees on the bed. They really are satin sheets, JC thought, as he felt Justin's hands on his hips, the bluntness of Justin's cock pushing in.

"Harder," JC said breathlessly. There hadn't been enough lube so the friction in his insides felt like a shovel digging into the earth. He gave Justin credit though, he could keep it up, keep it hard and keep it long. He was going to make one lucky woman and one lucky cabana boy's life very happy someday.

"Are..there…Christ, you're so fucking good, any other…positions?"

"Scissors," JC said.

"What the fuck is that?"

"Get off me first and lie on your side." Once Justin did that, JC went on his side and lifted his leg over Justin's hips. The fucking began again, but this time, it was slow and shallow. "This is perfect," JC said in between Justin's thrusts, "for long and slow fucking."

"I want you to come too," Justin said.

JC timed his hand with Justin's hips. In no time they were gasping and grunting, sweating like crazy, Justin getting into it, JC skimming the surface. He looked at it from above them and it almost looked pretty. Justin shuddered and panted loudly in JC's ear. JC had a weak spurt that went on a curved line over the black satin sheets.

"Four grand so far," Justin whispered after a few minutes. JC disentangled himself from Justin, who turned to lie on his stomach.

JC bent his head down and with great difficulty didn't think of the shower that Justin hadn't had yet or the food they just ate. He spread Justin's ass with his hands and thrust his tongue into Justin, who had an immediate and vocal reaction.

"Fuck!"

JC's tongue swirled and darted, thrust and curled, licked long and slow, quick and short. Justin became a mess of quivering flesh, reduced to high pitched babblings and grunts, and to JC's amusement, kitten-like squeaks. Reaching under Justin, JC rubbed his thumb over the head of Justin's rapidly growing cock. Symmetry of motion, JC had learned a long time ago, made people react in ways they never expect. Like before, he timed his tongue with his hand until Justin came again, until Justin slumped on the bed in a puddle of human flesh.

JC knelt on the bed until Justin found the energy to turn over. Justin's eyes were like eclipses, dark cores with fiery blue at the edges. He smiled languorously at JC and forgot himself. He sat up and kissed JC on the mouth. JC smiled into the kiss and licked the roof of Justin's mouth. Justin groaned and kissed JC like he was trying to crawl inside.

It only took a few seconds for Justin to realize what he was doing. JC had kept his eyes open the entire time and watched the knowledge sink into Justin's eyes.

"Fuck, that's disgusting! You fucking sicko!" He shoved JC back and ran into the bathroom.

JC laughed bitterly until he started getting teary-eyed.

* * *

 

JC had four thousand dollars. He kept patting his pockets because it made him feel safe, as if it kept the money still. He got dressed quickly while Justin was in the bathroom brushing his teeth. He was pretty sure he would laugh his head off over this in a week as he snuck out of the hotel room. Or maybe not. Maybe it would take a month or a year, where he would try to forget but can't, or try to remember but can't. Or maybe he'd forget the minute he stepped out of the hotel's revolving doors.

The elevator was paneled with something golden and reflective. JC looked at himself, distorted and prismed and four thousand dollars richer. The doors opened with a soft ding; it was empty. JC stepped inside and pressed the L button.

"Justin Timberlake fucked me," he said to himself quietly and felt nothing at all.

THE END


End file.
